Why do we wait so long to recognize the darkness behind the genius?
Is it because we're afraid that in acknowledging the deep void we might recognize the darkness already existing on the fringes of our non-genius lives? Is it because we reach only for what is light and clear, filled and meaning-full?
In appreciation of DFW:
Newsweek: "An author of infinite erudition who found artistic and moral value in simply registering his dread "
Time Magazine: "A fellow of infinite jest"
New York Times: "A prose magician"
Chicago Tribune: "a book that was sad"
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